I Know
by America's Got Fandom
Summary: I think…I think we're both a little broken." Ash looked up to Johnny, for symmetry, for confidence, for a friend. He smirked, color rising to his cheeks and character to his spirit. "Just a little, right?" Her laugh was warm. "Yeah, just a little." Ash x Johnny. My first Sing fanfic! T to be safe


**A/N: My first Sing fic, as I said up there. I was listening to Shake It Off from Sing, one thing led to another, and, well, now we're here! Hope you like! Should I continue it? Thanks for reading!**

Ash fumbled through her purse, the black hole that devoured every item she ever needed at all the wrong times. Seconds lasted hours as she dug through the bottomless pit until – ah, it was in the side pocket. Of course.

With a sigh, she stuck the worn, silver key into the equally battered keyhole, turned it, and let the door drift open with little force. Home.

"I'm back," She called, her words echoing off the wallpaper and hopefully making it to Johnny's ears. Yes, she and Johnny had moved in together. Why? Well, there were numerous reasons for that, many of which she had hardly admitted to herself. For one, they had a connection. They had both put their trust in people for so long, only to have the Earth ripped from under their feet. Besides, he was a lot of fun and had the same taste in TV. What more could she ask for?

She had just locked the door and dropped her leather purse to the ground when he walked out of the hallway, his hand in its default position; on the back of his neck behind a boyish grin. "Hey, Ash."

The living arrangement was perfectly innocent, but she was permitted to a nice thought here and there, wasn't she?

His smile faltered, and he stopped between her and the living room. "Hey, are you ok?"

"Yeah," she replied, her energy too depleted to make the lie convincing.

"I don't believe that."

She gave him her first smile of the day. "I knew you wouldn't."

He stepped to the kitchen, thus opening her passage to the TV. She plopped down on the burlap sack excuse for a couch, running her hands over her face. She wanted to shut the doors and never leave; yes, never again would she leave. She had technology, Johnny, and food. She needed nothing else in life.

From the kitchen, Johnny watched out of the corner of his eye as his best friend silently lamented the day's events, whatever they were. "You want to watch TV?"

"No."

"Wanna talk about it?"

"No."

That was out of the ordinary, he noticed. On any random day, she would either be ready to talk to him, or watch TV late into the night. It was never both, and never neither, until today. He wasn't letting her get away with that, obviously. "Did you see Lance?"

Silence echoed in the small apartment, beyond the click of the clock and the buzz of the microwave. That was all he needed as an answer.

"I told you it wouldn't go your way." The guilt set in before he even uttered the words, and he winced at his own cruelty. However, it was true, he really had tried to warn her. "He's a jerk."

"I know."

He hadn't meant for her to hear the words.

The microwave dinged, and he grabbed the popcorn before joining her on the couch. "Here." He offered her a bucket of popcorn, which she accepted.

"Thanks."

He let a beat of silence pass its course before intruding once more. "You can tell me about it."

Finally, she showed a splatter of emotion in her smirk. "You're just too good of a friend sometimes, Johnny."

"I'll take the compliment. What happened?"

Her story took a full thirty minutes – not that he minded. She had gone to see Lance in hopes he would apologize for his cruel behavior, but it was in vain, for he only shut her down again. She had told Johnny repeatedly that she was not looking for a reconciliation, merely revenge. Or was it admittance of his wrongdoings? He couldn't remember.

"It was a stupid idea," she muttered, her breath hot and choked with anguish. She threw her bucket against the wall, and it clattered against the wallpaper with a few thuds before clacking to the floor. "I just wanted him to apologize."

"He's not going to," Johnny said with what gentle sympathy he could muster. "He's not that type."

"I know."

She looked up at him, a soft smile working its way into her heart. "How was your day, anyway?"

Now it was his turn to remove himself emotionally, from her and the world. "You don't wanna hear about it, Ash." Symmetrical to her, he knew that his lie was weak and tired, and that the strong truth would prevail.

She scooched closer to him, resting her hand in his. "Try me."

He looked away, not because he was uncomfortable, but because he didn't want her to see him flush. "Well, I went to see my dad again. I mean, things are good between us, but I just wish he wasn't…y'know."

"I know."

"It'll get better, right?" The hope that she would say yes was strong, overcoming his will to act strong, for her sake.

There was a warmth in her smile that he craved. "Yeah, it will. I promise." She would keep that promise, she had to. She wanted to.

He rubbed his eyes. "It hurts. I miss him. The way things were before. It's better now, but…sometimes I just wish that things were like they used to be. It was easier." He knew that only she would understand what he meant.

She nodded. "I know." She paused, grasping his hand a nearly unnoticeable amount tighter. He knew, however, and gripped back. "I think…I think we're both a little broken." Ash looked up to Johnny, for symmetry, for confidence, for a friend.

He smirked, color rising to his cheeks and character to his spirit. "Just a little, right?"

Her laugh was warm. "Yeah, just a little."

The mood of the room lifted, and he stood up. "Come on, I think we both deserve an ice cream."

She nodded, a faint, rose hue rising to her cheeks as he helped her from the couch. How could he bring her mood up so quickly, with hardly any effort? "_This _is why you're my best friend."

"I know."


End file.
